Alternative Endings
by CafeAime
Summary: Jack's trawling the Universe for something... someone... but what? Can the Doctor help him find it? Post-COE, after Ianto's death.
1. Thrill of the Unknown

_Click._

To those in the know, that click could mean only one thing. And those in the know didn't always remain that way very long, so when it does happen there's only really one thing you can do. Turn around very, very slowly, and hope that the person wielding the gun pointed at some part of your body - hopefully an unimportant one, like the little finger on your right hand (be honest. Is it _really _essential? I mean, if you could lose a body part, that wouldn't be a bad one to get rid of. Excellent conversation starter, if you're wondering) or maybe your appendix (why? Just… _why_?) – is a sane one and not some gun-wielding ex with as many complexes as there are stars in the sky.

"Alright, alright."

The man who backed out of the storage room smirked, the thrill of the unknown lighting up his translucent eyes. He turned. The coat – far past his time (one of them, anyway) – was muddied and torn like it had been so many times before. This coat had been mistreated. The shirt was untucked, and the breeches loose. This, in short, just about summed up Captain Jack Harkness: he wasn't perfect, but he dazzled you just the same.

"Wow." He winked at the twelve or so… _things _assembled before him. They were a lot like bugs, he noted – with their bulbous eyes and pincers, and all the incessant _clicking_… "Nice welcoming committee." One was so bold as to prod him with his gun in the back. Jack raised an eyebrow. "Is this a stick up, or are you just pleased to see me?"

The things didn't seem to enjoy the innuendos. They clicked and clacked and beeped – yes, beeped – unpleasantly. Jack pouted. "No sense of humour, you people… go on, then." He put his hands out – triggering several disgruntled 'beeps' at the sudden move - and grinned. "Take me to your leader."

-x-

"I'm guessing by the lack of the banner and the balloons and the fact that there is no stripper in sight that you either weren't expecting me or you have _no _idea who I am." Jack said, still grinning, as he was directed into what he assumed was a control room. The walls were garbed with large, robust monitors that flickered with dots and circles in colours of dark blue and yellow. The rest of the wall space was taken up by either hundreds of important looking blue and green buttons (and, of course, the mandatory big red one that had writing on. Probably 'Do Not Press' – probably the only thing humans got right about space travel in their little films was that there was always a button. Most ships didn't need one, and merely put one in just to follow convention), but on the wall opposite Jack and his party of captors was a huge window overlooking the stars. Most of it was blocked, however, as something big sat in a chair before it, looking out across the Milky Way. It, too, clicked and clacked and beeped. Sometimes, it even meeped. That was new. Must be a leadership quality among these things. "Let me remedy that," the captain continued smoothly, winking at one of his captors. "I'm - "

"Captain Jack Harkness?!"

-x-

**AN: Ahaa. I know, I know… very short. I just loved the cliffhanger :) Please R and R if you're feeling extra especially gorgeous today - and maybe you could check out my drabbles? It's just a thought... ;) x  
**


	2. Retreat

**Two Years Earlier**

That morning, Jack woke – for want of a better word – _happy_.

That, in itself, is strange: he's not woken that way for many a year. Since Estelle. The warmth in his chest and the adrenaline and the pure _sunshine _pouring out of his soul is so bizarrely unusual that it renders him speechless for a few moments. He stays there, not wanting to open his eyes or move a muscle in case it turns out to be a dream.

The mattress sags beneath him; someone is moving. Getting up, he guesses. Still, he does not move.

Footsteps on the cold stone floor; someone is walking. Leaving, he realises. He turns.

Ianto is bent double with his back to him, wearing nothing but boxers. Jack grins with the glint in his eye that so many know not as well as the half naked man in front of him.

"Nice view."

Ianto freezes.

"I was just… going to make coffee."

"No, you weren't."

Jack's tone is easy and casual. The silence is not; the air is heavy with reminders of their broken lives, entwined and broken apart and fixed back up with duct tape so many times that it threatens to fall apart right there, right then, if not for that well hidden strain in Jack's voice restraining it. He heaves at the string and the tape and the silences holding them together and hopes that when they fall apart they'll be able to fix it up again like they always do.

_Not this time, _a small voice (that he could have sworn he'd pushed to the back of his mind) says. _This time, the pieces will be so small you won't even know where to look._

He pushes it away.

"You're right. I wasn't."

The immortal closes his eyes, releasing his lover from the traps that are his eyes. Lust-filled, Ianto once called them. No more. That isn't lust. Not as Jack knows it, anyway. He knows perfectly what it is, and he knows what to call it if he so wished. But Jack Harkness never was one for labels. Especially not _that _one.

"So what were you doing?"

The mattress creaks again. Ianto has sat down, but not to look at him – Jack half opens one eye to check. He is pulling on his trousers.

"I was getting dressed."

"I figured that out."

The silence tugs at the other end of the broken thing in Jack's mental grip, trying to tear it away from him. He holds fast.

"Ianto…" 

"Don't, Jack."

"Don't what?"

Silence.

"Look at me, Ianto."

For a moment – one horrified moment – Jack expects him to… he doesn't know. To his relief, Ianto turns to face him, revealing exactly what it was he didn't want Jack to see. A hidden burden weighing down heavy hearts that – just moments before – had been flying so high.

"Hey…"

Jack's arms move without his knowledge until he has the weeping man cocooned safely in his arms. Ianto does not resist. The silence relinquishes their broken love and moves back into the shadows that are far too close for Jack's liking.

"I love you, Jack."

The immortal merely closes his eyes. Out of all the things he could have said, did it have to be that one? He accepts it with a sigh. Of course it did.

"I…" 

"Beans are ready." Rhys' voice echoes around the warehouse and the silence swoops to claim the remnants of its broken down victims.

-x-

**Present Day**

"Doctor!" Jack yelped, twisting in the thing's iron grip to try to catch a glimpse of the Time Lord. His hands, like Jack's, were behind his back, and five or so of the Things were stood behind him. "They got you, too?"

"What?" The Doctor frowned before his eyes lit up, conveying his understanding. "Oh, no." He pulled his hands from behind his back and waved them a little, ignoring the panicked clicking that his movement caused. "Free as a bird, me."

Now it was Jack's turn to frown. "Then why the…" he nodded at the group assembled behind his friend with a raised eyebrow. The Doctor followed his gaze and laughed.

"No idea. Been following me round since I got here…" The Time Lord's eyes lit up. "Hey, maybe I have a fan club!"

"Aw, gee…" Jack pouted. "I thought they liked me best what with the handcuffs and all… way to crush a man's dreams." The Doctor grinned apologetically and his mouth opened – hoping to continue their usual banter – but they were prevented from doing so by an incredibly loud 'MEEEEEEP!'

All fell silent as the thing at the end of the room turned around and surveyed them with large, bulbous eyes. It was – for want of a better word – _huge_. You could not look at all of it at once unless you were from a great height, and even then you might be seized by the urge to lift up your foot and transform it into a stain on the carpet.

"Ahhh…"

Jack glanced to his left – the Doctor had walked forwards and was staring at It, like him, but with an expression that he knew all too well. That face was the face of an art collector who just discovered a lost Da Vinci, or a bank robber who'd just walked into the fullest Vault they'd ever seen. It was also, as Jack and many others knew too well, the Doctor's 'you-beauty' face. Here it comes…

"You… _beauty._"

Jack rolled his eyes. _I knew it_.

"You know what they are?"

The Doctor shot him a look that said 'of-course-I-did-stupid-now-let-me-gush'. Jack fell silent and let him gush.

"This… _gorgeous _specimin is… wow. Wow." Jack waited impatiently, fiddling with his cuffs.

"He does this all the time, ya know," he murmured to the nearest Thing. It didn't answer. Meanwhile, the Doctor had continued, oblivious to his lack of an audience.

"…and you see those big pockets of gooey type stuff, around the… um… midriff? That's where the eggs are stored, and - "

Very few things could make the Doctor fall silent, but whatever the thing 'Meeped' next certainly did. Jack watched in curious horror as the Time Lord paused… and whitened.

"Oh. Well then."

"What?" he asked impatiently. "What is it, Doctor?"

"Um…"

"_Doctor_."

"It… well…" the older man froze, fiddling with the hem of his suit jacket and shuffling his conversed feet awkwardly. "Um…"

"Tell me. _Now_."

"I… _really? _I mean… really?! Come on…"

He clicked. The Thing meeped.

"Ew."

"Doctor."

"Yeah?" The way the Time Lord glanced at him was so familiar it could have broken the other immortal's heart. That look said 'maybe-later'.

"What does it want?"

"Oh. That. Are you…" The Doctor looked at him again, and that time the look said 'sorry'. That was Jack's _least _favourite look. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes."

"Alright then. But you… you asked for it."

"NOW."

"It wants you to fertilize its eggs."

The immortal froze.

"You did ask."

**-x-**

**AN: Poor Jack :P In case you were wondering, that first bit was set during COE. I'm pretty sure it doesn't quite go with the timeline, but there you go. It made me cry to write that… I think all the coffee I had today has turned my brain to mush.**

**Review? It's my birthday! (Nearly) x**


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